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by Dancing_With_The_Beast



Category: Sons of Anarchy, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, BAMF Juice Ortiz, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Brother Merle, M/M, Merle Dixon Lives, Sophia Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_With_The_Beast/pseuds/Dancing_With_The_Beast
Summary: “I get that” the man nodded in understanding, it was a different world now, there were different rules and people weren’t always what they appeared to be. He held out his hand to shake, “I’m Rick”“Juice” he replied as he walked the short distance between them and shook Rick’s hand, noting the guys face. If he saw him again, he needed to know who he is. Good men are hard to come by these days. The blue eyes tracking over every inch of his face seemed to be doing the same which meant he was still considered a good man and that’s all he needed to relax a bit and lift his lips in a tiny smile.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead fic so please be kind! 
> 
> First things first, this isn't a canon au, I will be changing certain things and not sticking to the TWD world completely. It is in the season two time line but I won't be following the canon things happening and will probably end up making some things up but I'll try to stick to the script as much as can. Secondly, as said before it is set in season 2 of The Walking Dead but season 4 of Sons of Anarchy. I think they're pretty close together year wise anyway and last but not least I'm using season 3-4 Daryl because it'll make more sense as the story goes on. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

_For all its material advantages, the sedentary life has left us on edge, unfulfilled. Even after 400 generations in villages and cities, we haven’t forgotten. The open road still softly calls, like a nearly forgotten song of childhood._

Juice, for all the life of him, can’t even begin to remember when or where he read that or saw it or heard it. It’s like one of those distant memories that you can’t place but you know that without a doubt that it happened. The quote plays on repeat in his head as he continues along the empty stretch of open road, leaving Charming weeks before a zombie epidemic probably wasn’t the smartest move but Juice isn’t known for being the smartest of people.  Leaving Charming, however, was one of the best decisions he’s ever made. With all the bullshit that occurred with Roosevelt along with the cartel drama, he desperately needed an escape, or his head would have gotten to cloudy and muddled up.

He still remembers the days after Roosevelt pulled him into his office with the vague brotherly atmosphere covering the threat which would have ended up killing him. He knew it, Roosevelt knew it, the minute that file of his dad opened there was only one way to close it. After leaving the police station with his head in a mess and no idea what to do, the one thing he was sure of was that he couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Roosevelt, not when the man was ready to blackmail him with the colour of his skin, not when he could’ve died because of this.

* * *

 

_“I’ll stay in touch brother” Roosevelt had smiled at him, acting as though he hadn’t just sentenced Juice to death, like he hadn’t just started something terrible. Juice will never forget that sinking feeling in his gut as he sat in the constricting chair, watching the gleeful look in Roosevelt’s eyes and easy smile on his face._

_He barely remembers getting back to the club house, barely remembers saying no to the cartel deal, and he barely remembers Chibs patting his back afterwards, grabbing a bottle and bidding him a fair-well and a promise to not drink and drive. He barely remembers anything except for the unbridled fear and panic overtaking him._

* * *

 

He rolls to a stop, coming up to a blocked road full of cars and supplies. Taking the helmet and cloth covering his nose and mouth off, Juice wipes his lips with the back of his hand and places both over the handles of his bike. Leaning forward he rests his crossed arms over them and scans the wasteland of cars and walkers. There’s only a couple or so, enough for him to kill without being over powered.

“Shit okay, I can definitely see some water and food in the ugly ass red car near that small group of wal – wait is that a punch buggy? Who the fuck uses a punch buggy to get to safety in a walker invasion?” Juice questions himself, shaking his head at his thoughts and laughing with a tinge of hysteria.

Before the dead started walking, Juice hated the idea of killing anything or anyone. He was never meant to be a killer, too kind and too naive to even grasp the devastation caused by killing someone and living through it without the burning guilt. He wasn’t like his brothers. The guilt would have crushed him. He distinctly remembers one time at his grandma’s house in Queens after being pushed onto different family relatives, when he was just a kid, watching as his grandma brought in a bird.

* * *

 

_“Grama” he said, not being able to say the word right just yet. He looked at her, eyes young and bright, a frown tugging at his mouth where several teeth were missing “Is the birdie gonna be okay? Are you gonna help it get better?”_

_“No Juan” she replied, walking past him to the backyard and placing the injured bird on a rock, “I’m going to put it out of its misery, go back inside baby”, she’d kissed him on the head and steered him back inside, grabbing a spare shovel on the way and leaving the room to go and take care of the bird._

* * *

Juice stepped off the bike grabbing onto his own knife, laying in its sheath snug against his hip, and held it cautiously as he walked out into the wasteland, eyes sharp and body tense as he heard voices ahead of him.

 “I found something!” a young voice called out a few feet ahead of him and without thinking, Juice leapt forward backing them into the nearest car with his body, knife sharp against the persons neck.

“Hey whoa, whoa man okay shit, Rick!” the Asian kid (and he really was a kid, younger than Juice for sure) went still in his arms, body tense and unresponsive to the knife at his throat. His eyes gave him away though, desperate and fearful. If there’s one thing in this world full of the walking dead that people haven’t forgotten, it’s that humans are still to be feared the most.

“Who are you?” Juice growled out, eyes never leaving the other mans as his lips tugged into a frown. “I’m not gonna kill you, I just want to know where you stand”,

“Oh yeah sure, _I’m not gonna kill you_ he says as he holds a knife against my throat!” the kid yelled, kicking out, as he tried to find an escape from the car and the stranger holding the knife against his neck. Juice, however, pushed in closer and held the knife a little tighter, a voice at the back of his head thinking of Chibs and his daughter, Kerri Anne; his friend. Could he even stand to look either of them in the eye after what he’s become? He pushes the upcoming thoughts to the back of his head, leaving them just as soon as they came. 

“Keep quite asshole or you’re gonna get us both killed by walkers. Can you not like whisper instead?” Juice hissed, getting up close and personal, unblinking as he glares at the kid, “Now let’s try that again. Who are you?”

“Glenn, my names Glenn” Glenn replies, glaring back before sighing and relaxing back against the car, eyes wandering over the deserted cars, as a look of boredom passes over his features before he resumes looking at the man in front of him, “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already, so can you drop the knife please?”

“I think you’d better do as he says brother,” a southern drawl behind him says, as Juice stands up a bit taller, slightly tense. He eases the knife away from the kid’s neck, giving Glenn an apologetic look and turns slowly to face the man behind the accent. Standing before him, weapons raised, are a group of tired and weary looking people. “Maybe you should give me that knife, kid,” the man in the middle says, adding the kid to the end of his sentence with a cocky smirk.

“No thanks, think I’ll just put it right here, if you don’t mind” he points to the sheath at his hip, while still keeping eye contact with the man in the sheriffs uniform as he places the knife where it belongs, snug against his hip. There was no way Juice was giving Happy’s present away to some Sheriff, that knife had saved his life more times than he’d care to admit and it held sentimental value, a sign of brotherhood and love.

* * *

 

_“Happy birthday Juice” the gravelly voice of the Tacoma killer spoke out making the kid turn around to smile at the man standing in front of him, looking dopey and high as a fucking kite on the weed supplied by Halfsack for his birthday. Juice snatched the badly wrapped present from Happy’s hands, stumbling off the bar seat and into the arms of the man for a sloppy hug._

_“Thanks brother” he kissed the killers cheek before wobbling back and slumping against the stool again, eye’s unfocused as he ripped at the brown paper and string. Once all the paper was on the floor he held the gift up to his face, eyes squinting as he took in the intricate pattern engraved in the rich leather of a knife’s sheath._

_“Holy shit man” Juice breathed out, eyes glassy but undoubtedly joyful. The younger man pulled the sharp knife out and cradled it against his hand. It was a 4 inch, fixed blade with a beautiful wooden handle that had been polished to perfection. It was one of the most thoughtful gifts Juice had ever received from one of his brothers and he couldn’t help but grin as he jumped up to hug Happy again._

_“Thanks Hap, she’s beautiful” he said as he pulled away and placed the sheath on his belt._

_Happy just nodded and made his way back to the crow-eaters crowding around the pool table as Juice went back to taking shots with Chibs._

* * *

 

“So, you threaten one of mine and then refuse to give up your weapons?” Rick, Juice guessed, looked over him with barely hidden disgust. “Not making a strong case for yourself are you?” Juice ignored him as he looked over at the others, taking in the members of the group.

A woman, old but cute, with her arm around a young girl stood fearfully behind a man with a crossbow and a leather vest, no different from the one Juice was wearing, he quietly noted. Beside them stood an old man and a black man, both fat, staring at Juice with an ounce of sympathy. He couldn’t blame them; even he knew he looked like utter shit. There were 2 other woman; a blonde who looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but here and a brunette holding tightly onto a small boy, both standing behind a tall muscular guy with large ears. Despite all their weapons and stronger men, he knew they were more afraid of him than any walker. He was a lone man in a MC leather vest with a reaper. It wasn’t a good look, especially with how unpredictable he was to them. At least with walkers you know they only do one thing; eat. No matter what, all they want is flesh and muscle. Juice was unpredictable and therefore scarier than any walkers to these people. Lucky for them, Juice wasn’t a fucking psychopath or some kind of sociopath.

Juice shook his head, clearing his thoughts and turned around to look at the sheriff. He sighed and leaned back against the car and looked right at him, “Look, I don’t want any trouble man. You’re the first people I’ve seen in weeks and the last people I met weren’t good.”

“I get that” Rick nodded in understanding, it was a different world now, there were different rules and people weren’t always what they appeared to be. “We’ll leave you alone as long as you leave us alone but I’ll be having Daryl over there keep an eye on you as we both go through our separate scavenges.” He gestured to the man with the crossbow and held out his hand to shake, “I’m Rick”

“Juice” he replied as he walked the short distance between them and shook Rick’s hand, noting the guys face. If he saw him again, he needed to know who he is. Good men are hard to come by these days. The blue eyes tracking over every inch of his face seemed to be doing the same which meant he was still considered a good man and that’s all he needed to relax a bit and lift his lips in a tiny smile.  Releasing Rick’s hand, he turned and walked away, the heavy footsteps behind him and the voice of Rick saying “Go with him Daryl,” letting him know he had someone, anyone with him.

He didn’t say anything to Daryl and Daryl didn’t say anything to him. They worked in silence as they took out walkers and scavenged for useful things, the same silence that was killing Juice slowly with every passing moment. He ached to talk to someone other than himself again. He was so desperate, he would happily take Tig’s hurtful jabs at him or Jax calling him stupid and cuffing him over the head. That‘s if they still wanted him, still thought of him as a brother. Those stupid by – laws, he should have known they would have come back to bite him in the ass.

* * *

 

_“Blow me” Juice glared at him defiantly, he didn’t need this. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Roosevelt was nothing to him._

_“You know save the badass. Your MC ain’t gonna give a shit about you being loyal or hard cause all they gonna see is black” and with those words Roosevelt cut him down once again. He needed to get out of Charming, away from Roosevelt along with his black-mailing and nasty threats. Juice just kept his head down as Roosevelt spoke to him, all the shit he was gonna make Juice do, all the while Juice was making plans in his head. He didn’t even notice when the Sheriff walked away from him, chuckling to himself, no guilt written on his face. Juice just shook his head. No way in hell was he staying to put up with this shit._

* * *

 

“How’d you end up alone?” the gruff voice surprised him making him flinch and hit his head on the roof of a car he was half in. Juice groaned in pain and backed out of what he assumed was a hoarder’s car. “Shit man, you can’t just sneak up behind people like that” Juice shot a glare at the redneck before sighing and stalking over to another car, leaving the other man to follow him.

“Ran away from home” he joked and Daryl huffed out half a laugh. The two shared a shit eating grin before turning back to their respective stealing. Juice opened a SUV and gagged at the smell of walker skin, quickly sticking his knife to the back of its head. It wasn’t a she anymore, not when she had chunks of what appeared to be her own baby hanging out of her mouth. He grabbed a spare pink jumper from the hood of the car and covered the baby girl in it. Closing his eyes he thought of Abel and Thomas. The two babies of the MC, the VP’s most precious treasures. They traveled to fucking Ireland to get Abel back, risked their lives time and time again to protect those boys and he could only hope to God that they were okay.

“Juice, man” Daryl leaned on his side against the car, watching as Juice grabbed as much ammo as he could as well as some semi – clean clothes. “I’m serious, how’d you end up alone in this fucking mess?” Juice sighed again; he seemed to be doing that a lot of it lately. He knew Daryl wouldn’t leave him alone until he told him but in all honesty, all he wanted to do was tell him to fuck off and get on with his scavenging.

“You really wanna know?” Juice asked him, looking him straight in the eye whilst closing the car door and leaning against it. From the corner of his eye he saw Daryl nodding his head so he just screwed up his face and nodded as well, “Okay, well, I wasn’t lying about running away.”

* * *

 

_Juice stepped into the club house, the smell of smoke, leather and sex immediately clinging to his clothes and filling his nostrils. He’s going to miss it. After all, he’d had some of his best memories in this shit box of a club house. Long nights with Chibs, playing pool and poker and everything in between, giving Halfsack shit when he acted dumb, little inside jokes with Happy about stupid shit that none of the others understood, the birthdays, celebrations and his little moments of pride, like when Tara told him he saved the Irish man’s life or when he blew the club away with his computer skills._

_He made sure to take it all in, from the questionable stains in the fabric of the pool table to the shitty mark covered bar table._

_“Juice, what are you doing standing in the door way like a fucking idiot, c’mon man we’ve got church” Jax grinned at him, coming up behind him and slinging an arm around his shoulders, steering into the chapel. He never thought he’d have this and he’d never thought it would be taken away so soon. Feels like just yesterday when he’d just gotten patched in._

_He takes a seat and immediately loses himself to the memories clouding his mind, so much so he misses when Clay slams the gavel down on the table and the others begin to get up._

_He doesn’t even think about it before the “Wait” comes out of his mouth and then everyone’s looking at him._

_“What is it Juicy?” Chibs is looking straight at him, right into his eyes and for a split second he doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to go. Content to stay with his best friend and his family but he knows that if he does, he’ll end up doing something he’ll regret and without a doubt, he’ll end up dead._

_“I uh, just wanted you guys to know that...that I love you all. You’re my family and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for each and every one of you” he looks at each of them as he says it, looks at their confused and sympathetic gazes as he swallows his guilt._

_“C’mon you idiot” and it’s Tig that breaks everyone out of their silence, “Let’s get some alcohol into you before your dick drops all the way off” that causes the guys to laugh and they go, shove each other out of chapel. Juice looks right at Chibs and he knows immediately that Chibs knows something is wrong, of course his best friend would, but for now all he does is smile and knock Tig’s arm off his shoulder._

* * *

 

“So you just left?” Daryl doesn’t say much but at least when he does talk he gets straight to the point.

“Yeah, that night, just took some shit, my guns and knives, got on my bike and drove off. Haven’t seen them since” he tries not to get emotional but how can he not? He fucking misses them; he misses his family and its killing him because he doesn’t even know if they want him anymore. He’s so deep into his own thoughts that he almost doesn’t hear Rick’s terrified scream. Walkers are approaching and they’re coming fast.

Juice immediately looks to his bike, he could make it, he was always a fast runner in high school but then he turns and looks back at Daryl who is racing towards his group, making his way towards the children that are scrambling to hide under cars as the group frantically looks for any sort of cover to keep themselves protected from the flesh eating beasts. Juice growls under his breath before turning on his heels and running after Daryl, who’s helped someone hide under a decomposing body, he guesses so that the walkers can’t detect the smell of human blood. He gags a bit when he sees it but the look Daryl gives him says ‘trust me’ so anxiously nodding his head Juice just continues racing over to where Rick is.

He grabs the frantic man by the shoulders and punches him. His fist makes a satisfying crack but that was the least of his problems, he quickly shoves Rick into the RV and cautiously shuts the door. He catches the eye of a brunette woman who mouths a ‘Thank You’ at him and he nods his head in acceptance. Realising he is out in the open, exposed to the walkers who could come in at any time and rip him apart into shreds, Juice turns in circles, “Fuck, fuck, okay how fucking man – oh shit” it’s not a hoard, it’s a fucking tsunami of them walking between cars getting closer and closer.

Juice spins on his heel and tries to find a car to hide in, trying door after door, too full of panic to be able to pick a lock as he hears the walkers get closer to him before finally giving up on the sixth car. He turns around to look back to where the SUV is knowing it is open but getting to it meant running towards the herd of walkers and Juice wasn’t certain if he was willing to risk his life.

“Fuck it” he mutters, slamming his fist in the car door in anger and sprinting towards the walkers. The whole group, he knows, are watching him, calling him stupid under their breaths, probably saying that he’s going to get himself killed. Even he knows how stupid he’s being, but there’s nothing he can do about it, he’s only got hope on his side now. Hope that he makes it safely to that SUV before the walkers.


End file.
